


Forget Me Not

by Beauxxxtiful_lies



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fairy Tale Curses, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Hanahaki Disease, Insecure Azumane Asahi, M/M, Magical Realism, Mentions of Blood, Mild Sexual Content, Multi, Nonbinary Azumane Asahi, Nonbinary Character, Not Actually Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:08:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24029389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beauxxxtiful_lies/pseuds/Beauxxxtiful_lies
Summary: Asahi is trapped in a fairytale—cursed by a magical rose after they pricked their finger as a small child. Now those “dire consequences” their grandmother warned about are coming true.With their lungs slowly filling with rose petals and no hope to break the curse, the only thing they know for certain is that they can’t let Daichi or Suga know their true feelings.Their friends deserve to be happy—together—and Asahi won’t be the one to take that away from them.
Relationships: Azumane Asahi/Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi, Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
Comments: 18
Kudos: 99





	Forget Me Not

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sugaplumvisions](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugaplumvisions/gifts).



> Gray I have been _so excited_ to scream about this with you!! I hope you like it, and I hope I did your crew justice (≧◡≦) ♡
> 
> Huuuuuge thank you to [Kou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/joshllyman/pseuds/joshllyman) & [Cat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catastra_Fey/pseuds/Catastra_Fey) for being fabulous betas, and for helping me work through my sticky plot points!!

The greenhouse is muggy and warm. The smell of freshly turned earth and sunlight wrapped Asahi like a mossy green blanket slung over their shoulders. Their earliest memories were here amongst the clay pots and damp soil. It truly was their favorite place in the whole world, even now. Not that they knew much of the world outside Miyagi, but this was arguably a world all its own.

The Azumane Family Greenhouses were well known throughout the prefecture. Asahi’s great-great-great-grandfather had started out by nursing plants back to health in his tiny one-room home. Before long, word had spread far of his unrivaled ability to rescue ailing plants, and people traveled long distances for help with their exotic collections. 

Some patrons showed their gratitude with seeds, or clippings from their most prized botanicals. Plants from all over the world found a home in the greenhouse he constructed, and after generations the place had become an expansive labyrinth of exotic species, many rumored to hold mystical qualities one could hardly begin to fathom. 

Asahi could almost always be found wandering the oldest corners, lost in the maze of branching leaves and twisting vines that to this day they struggle to pronounce the names of. The air was different here in these secret corners of the garden, known only to Asahi’s ancestors, shrouded in a veil of quiet reverence. 

Though Asahi was free to roam, there was one plant that their grandmother always warned against: an ancient looking rose that resided in the center of one of the original sections of the garden. It was gnarled, and twisted with woody stems that bunched and knotted together in great whorls dotted with wicked thorns and the biggest, brightest, most fragrant flowers that young Asahi had ever laid eyes on. 

They were drawn to that plant like no other in the entire greenhouse—and not because it was off limits. There were plenty of plants that they had been told to steer clear of, and for plenty of reasons. They were poisonous, or prickly, or far too delicate for a child’s curious hands. But with this plant there was never any explanation—just a vague warning that “dire consequences” would befall anyone who was unlucky enough to prick their finger on one of those vicious looking thorns.

Day after day, Asahi recalled winding up in front of that rose, unable to resist its pull. Their grandmother’s voice echoed in the back of their mind as they inched closer and closer, fingertips itching to stroke across the velvety petals of its flowers. Surely it would be okay, as long as they were careful of the thorns. Asahi swore they could almost feel the magic flowing through those knotted stems as they reached toward one of the bright red blooms. 

One fateful day, with fingers outstretched and without warning, a pot shattered on the stone walkway behind them. Asahi jumped and spun around just in time to spot their old tabby cat slinking away from the potting bench that stood near the entrance of the alcove. Their grandmother had heard the noise, and Asahi listened to her cane tapping along the path as she made her way through the greenhouse to investigate. 

Asahi felt odd...like they were floating very far away, their body pulsing with energy like they had never felt before as they listened to the  _ tap, tap, tap  _ of her cane against the stone. Their hand was still held out before them, and they brought it close just as their grandmother rounded the corner to see a scarlet drop of blood pool at the tip of their index finger and drip slowly down. 

She bypassed the broken pot and crouched down on creaking knees in front of Asahi, taking their face into her hands. 

“Dear child,” she whispered with tears in her eyes. “What have you done?” 

* * *

Asahi retraced their steps, all the way back to the school entrance and across campus. The cool spring air nipped at their cheeks as their eyes scanned the ground, hoping for any possible sign of the wallet that had gone missing from their back pocket. 

Retracing their steps now was a better option than worrying about it all night. As long as they found it, that was. Even though it was probably still in their locker, tucked away safely, Asahi knew that their brain wouldn’t allow them to rest until they had it back in their possession. If only they had been paying attention after practice instead of focusing on...well...other things. 

Like the dimple in Daichi’s cheek when he grinned and patted them on the back—“Nice work, Ace,” echoing through the courtyard as the team slowly trickled out of the gym at the end of practice. 

Or like the beauty mark on Suga’s right shoulder that Asahi spotted when he unceremoniously stripped off his damp practice shirt, turning Asahi six shades of red when they realized the mark matched the one under Suga’s left eye. 

Or like the panic induced by the slow creep of realization that Asahi had feelings for their two best friends that went beyond the line of simple platonic friendship. 

_ ‘Of course Noya would call me out,’ _ Asahi thought with a grimace at the memory of Nishinoya’s voice breaking through their thoughts. A cry of, “Asahi-san, what’s with the face?!” that cut through the panic and the tickling feeling rising up like bile in their throat. 

“Yeah, your face is all like bwahh!” Hinata had said, leaping into the air over Nishinoya’s shoulder, slapping his hands against his cheeks and contorting his face. 

It was Sugawara who had called them off, snapping a towel at their kouhai like a whip and effectively chasing the two away, giving Asahi room to breathe. 

Room to breathe, that is, until Sawamura leaned in on Asahi’s other side. “You know...they’re not wrong. Is everything okay?” he asked in a low voice. Their shoulders brushed together and the heat that seeped through the fabric of their T-shirt made that fluttering in their chest expand to fill their lungs. Asahi managed to squeak out what was probably a very unconvincing “Yep!” before Suga’s laughter drew Daichi’s gaze away.

Their mouth was dry, and their hands were shaking, and Daichi was so very, very close, but when Asahi finally worked up the nerve to pull their head out of their locker that tickling sensation turned suffocating—a constricting that took hold around their heart when they caught sight of the look in Daichi’s eyes as he watched Suga from across the club room. 

Asahi shook their head, releasing the memory as they reached the foot of the stairs. It was better not to think about it—to keep that suffocating feeling at bay. It was lucky they hadn’t run into anyone on the way back to the club room. They really were not up for explaining why they’d suddenly grabbed their bag and bolted in a fit of dry coughing that followed them down the corridor.  _ ‘Maybe I’m getting sick,’ _ they thought, zipping their jacket a little higher. 

By now the club room would be locked, but they still found themself climbing the steps and scanning their eyes over the landing. Unfortunately—or maybe fortunately, it was hard to tell at this point—there was no sign of the lost wallet. They’d just have to wait until the morning to check their locker. 

Asahi let out a heavy sigh, running a hand over the back of their neck. Despite knowing the door wouldn’t open, something made them turn back. They tried the handle and halted when it turned easily and swung open just a crack. The lights were still on, and there were...sounds coming from inside. Sounds that should not have been coming from inside the club room. 

Asahi stood frozen in place as they listened to the murmur of hushed voices meant for ears that were not their own. They held their breath, feeling their face flush hot when one of those voices caught around a low breathy moan, and if they didn’t know better they would have sworn that voice was attached to...Suga? 

No. Asahi shook their head. There was no way—

_ “Ah!—Fuck—Yes, just like th-that—” _

_ ‘Shit. Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’t look.’ _ Asahi’s brain warned.  _ ‘Whoever it is, whatever they’re doing, you don’t want to know.’ _

Their hands would be shaking if not for the white-knuckled grip they had around the handle and the doorframe. Asahi’s heart was pounding so fast they could barely hear the murmuring over the rushing in their ears, but...something about that voice. They had to know for sure. With a deep breath Asahi peeked around the door and saw them pressed up against the lockers.

A familiar head of silver hair tipped back, eyes closed as the person overtop of him reached between their sweat-slicked torsos and buried their face into his neck.

“Koushi—” the other person groaned into the dip of his shoulder, mouthing up his throat, dragging lips and tongue across porcelain skin, and...Asahi knew that voice, too. That’s... 

It took a few moments for their brain to catch up with their eyes. That  _ was _ Suga they heard—and the other person was Daichi.

Daichi and Suga...were here...and they were...

“ _ Ahh!— _ Daichi—D-don’t stop,” Suga gasped, digging his fingers into corded muscle as he keened and squirmed in Daichi’s hands. Asahi couldn’t look away as Suga’s back arched off the lockers and Daichi’s shoulders flexed while he worked his hand in the front of Suga’s track pants, grinding against his hip as he kissed along his jawline. 

A tight feeling settled in Asahi’s chest, squeezing around their lungs and stealing their breath. Their body pulsed with an energy they hadn’t felt since they were five years old and their grandmother knelt before them, tears falling in the dirt as she clutched at their face. 

Lost wallet forgotten, Asahi took a step back from the door, but before they could retreat the dry itch in their throat became too much to bear. They coughed, raspy and deep, as petals poured out between the fingers that they had clamped over their mouth. 

Asahi looked down in horror at the yellow and white rose petals that were now scattered across the landing outside the club room. 

_ ‘No...no, this can’t be happening.’  _

They realized a split second later that the voices inside had gone quiet. 

_ ‘No no no no no.’ _

They couldn’t be found out—not like this. Asahi wanted to scoop up all the petals, but there wasn’t any time. With one last grimace at the mess, they turned and rushed as quietly as they could down the back steps, slipping around the corner of the building, where they crouched down behind a low wall. 

This was such a disaster.  _ ‘This can’t be happening. I’m not...I don’t...’ _ They couldn’t even finish the thought as they ground their fist into the dirt and spit the remains of the petals at their feet.

But this was happening. And really, they should have seen it coming. Then maybe they could have done something to prevent it. 

It had all started with a tickle.

A featherlight brush just behind Asahi’s breastbone whenever Suga would laugh a certain way before draping across their shoulders, or whenever Daichi turned those wide brown eyes toward them. 

Asahi felt it in the way Suga would grip their wrist, tugging them through the halls after class and not letting go until they had reached the club room door—and in the way Daichi smiled, deep brown eyes sparkling with fondness and something else that Asahi couldn’t put a name to. 

It was a breathless, fluttery, warm-all-over feeling brought on by mischievous gazes and devious grins. 

At first they didn’t recognize the feeling that grew and pressed against their rib cage like wings that unfolded to beat along with every pulse of their heart, but it tasted sharp and bright.

Like hope, and fear, and promise.

Just last week, they had been talking about graduation—the deadline looming just a few measly weeks ahead of them. Asahi couldn’t help but wonder what would happen when they didn’t have the common threads of volleyball, and school, and proximity holding the three of them together any longer. 

“What does it matter? We won’t always be together, but we’ll always be friends,” Daichi had said over half-eaten bentos, and scattered study notes. 

To which Suga had declared matter-of-factly, “We’re  _ best _ friends. Nothing is going to change that.” 

It was meant to be comforting, Asahi knew that—fingers intertwined with Suga’s and bright eyes shining back at them, Daichi’s warm smile and his firm hand gripping their shoulder. It was comforting, but something about the sentiment left Asahi feeling both warm and cold—unable to explain the twinge of pain that lanced through their heart when Suga unlaced their fingers and Daichi returned to his lunch. 

Now they understood in painful clarity, and Sugawara’s words repeated in their mind over and over.

_ We’re best friends. Nothing is going to change that.  _

**_Nothing_ ** _ is going to change that.  _

**_Nothing is going to change._ **

They heard the club door open and held their breath when Suga’s voice carried through the stairwell, “Daichi, there are petals out here.”

“What?” Daichi’s voice was muffled inside the club room, but it rang out loud and clear when he asked, “Is that blood?” 

Asahi looked down at the fistful of crumpled petals at their feet, picking up a few to investigate. Sure enough, the yellow and white was flecked with crimson. 

No, not crimson—scarlet. Just like that twisted old rosebush back home in the greenhouse. 

Just like the drop of blood where they’d pricked their finger on those needle-like thorns so many years ago. 

“This is so weird. It’s just like that legend.” 

“Legend?” Daichi asked, his voice a mixture of confusion and skepticism. 

“Come on, you grew up here too. You had to have heard of the Hanahaki Curse.” Daichi’s face must have said otherwise because Suga continued a moment later. “Well, legend goes there was this evil witch who cursed a rosebush, and if you prick your finger on the thorns you’ll throw up flowers  _ until you die.” _

Asahi squeezed their eyes closed. The legend of the curse was well known, but the story had been told and retold so many times that it had become distorted through the years. Today’s version was a gross oversimplification, to say the least, but they couldn’t exactly go around correcting everyone. 

Besides, it’s not like people had any reason to fear considering his family had successfully protected everyone from the curse for generations. 

Well...almost everyone.

After a long pause Daichi said, “So...you’ll throw up flowers...until you die...” 

“Yeah. I can’t believe you’ve never heard of it.” 

“Okay, let’s say it’s true. Who do you think it could be?” Asahi heard Daichi ask as one of them slid their key into the lock and jiggled the handle to make sure it was secure. “Also, do you die from the flowers, or do you just...throw them up  _ until _ you die?” 

“Oh...I don’t really know. What time is it? We should go research. OH! We could ask Asahi! Their family owns a greenhouse, right?! It’s flower related...they’ve got to know all about this stuff.” 

Daichi hummed in response. 

“Anyway, it’s too late now. We can ask them tomorrow at lunch. Come on, loverboy. We’ve got to get home, and I still owe you a blow job,” Suga said entirely too loudly as he skipped toward the stairs. 

Asahi felt their face flame bright red as Daichi sputtered on the landing, “ _ Wha—ga—bu—SUGA _ ! You can’t just  _ say things like that!” _

Asahi listened to Suga’s laughter and Daichi’s scolding voice fade into the distance as they headed down the opposite staircase and away from their hiding place. They sighed, leaning back against the wall and grinding the wilted petals under the heel of their shoe. 

Of course they’d have to explain the Hanahaki Curse to the last two people in the world they wanted to know anything about it. That was just their luck. For all they knew, bad luck was part of the curse, and given the events of the day that was entirely within the realm of possibility. 

They could try to deny knowing anything, but they weren’t great at lying, and Suga could be alarmingly perceptive. They just had to hope that they could keep it together long enough to not spit up any flowers right in front of them. 

After waiting long enough that they were certain they wouldn’t be caught, Asahi stood up from their hiding place and made their way toward the gate. Tomorrow they would have to tell Daichi and Suga about the curse, but they could never let their friends find out the truth. 

Sugawara and Sawamura were together. 

We’re best friends. 

Nothing is going to change that. 

* * * 

“Asahi! Just the person we wanted to see!” 

Suga dropped down onto the seat next to Asahi and slung an arm around their shoulders. Asahi looked over at him, heart rate spiking for just a moment before they remembered why their friends wanted to see them. 

They could feel their heart thrumming painfully in their chest, but swallowed hard around the feeling, turning their focus back to their lunch instead of the burning trail that Suga’s fingertips left as they brushed across the bare skin below the hem of their sleeve. Asahi realized then that they used to live for these little moments filled with lingering touches, and flirtatious grins, and ‘what-if’s.’ But now, instead of elation, all it brought was the sour taste of guilt for wanting something that didn’t belong to them. 

Daichi sat down across the table, eyes flashing with a look Asahi couldn’t quite read as he took in the arm Suga had so casually draped over them. It made Asahi want to disappear—sink right through their seat and into the floor for letting their mind wander the way it did. Before Asahi could do anything Suga said, “Asahi, dear friend, we need your botanical expertise.” 

Asahi regarded him with a look that they hoped read  _ ‘suspicious’ _ and not  _ ‘absolutely terrified.’  _

“What makes you think I have any sort of ‘botanical expertise?’” Asahi said, quirking one eyebrow and grinning despite themself. They knew that they’d wind up answering their friends’ questions, as long as the answers didn’t give away their secret. But that didn’t mean they had to make it easy. 

Suga relaxed into his seat, dropping his arm from Asahi’s shoulder to pull his bento from his bag as he explained his reasoning. “Well, I know for a fact your family owns the oldest greenhouse in the area.” Asahi opened their mouth to counter that the family business didn’t equate to  _ them _ having any knowledge, but Suga interrupted, “AND I know for a fact that you spend your weekends and summers working in said greenhouse. Ergo, botanical expertise,” Suga said with a flourish. 

“I’ve also never seen you look happier than that day at the end of our last training camp when you let Suga braid flowers into your hair,” Daichi said from across the table. He cleared his throat when Suga and Asahi looked up at him, running a hand over the back of his neck with a shrug. “So, you have to like flowers at least a little bit.” 

Asahi flushed at the memory, and the knowledge that their happiness in that moment had nothing to do with the tiny stems of forget-me-nots that Suga’s nimble fingers had woven into a crown around their head. 

Their chest fluttered, bringing them back to reality just as Sugawara slapped his hand down in the middle of the table scattering a fistful of crushed petals across the metal surface. 

“Do you know what kind of flower these came from?” 

Asahi knew instantly. 

They clenched their jaw and swallowed hard to keep from adding to the pile on the table. 

Those were the petals they left outside the club room yesterday. The same ones they had woken up with spilling across their pillow, and that they had coughed into the toilet in a cramped bathroom stall during the middle of practice that morning. The same ones they felt fighting their way up their throat every second they sat there with their best friends knowing they could never actually be  _ with _ them in the way they so desperately needed—and not just needed because of the flowers and what that meant, but because since they had come to the realization, they couldn’t imagine a life without Sugawara and Sawamura in it. All three of them. Together. 

They were prepared to answer questions about the legend of the curse—had planned to stay vague and detached, only providing enough detail to satisfy their curiosity—but they weren’t prepared for this. Suddenly it was all too real. They stared at the handful of flowers, trying not to think about the fact that Suga had been carrying them around since yesterday. Asahi reached a hand out and scooped up two of the petals, rubbing the velvety amber and ivory between their fingers. 

“Roses,” they managed to squeak out.

“Hey! See, I knew you’d be able to tell us! Now what can you tell us about the Hanahaki Curse?” Suga leaned in close, pinning Asahi with those bright hazel eyes and staring like he could see the answers reflected back at him through Asahi’s gaze if he only leaned close enough. 

Asahi cleared their throat, leaning away from Sugawara’s face and turning their focus back to their bento. “I...know a little.” Daichi’s head snapped up in surprise and it felt like Suga was nearly vibrating with excitement. “Let’s talk after school though. You guys were going to leave practice to Ennoshita anyway, right? And I uh...just remembered I have to...finish something before class,” they said as they collected their things, fumbling with their lunchbox before they stuffed it into their bag and stood from the table. 

“Oh, okay. We’ll talk later then.” But Asahi was already walking away, footsteps quick as they headed toward the restroom. Thoughts spiraling between guilt, and longing, and  _ gods how easy it would have been to just lean forward and press their lips together. _ A thrill ran up their spine when they thought about Daichi’s solid presence on the other side of the table, and what it would feel like with him watching as Asahi licked into Suga’s mouth and ran their thumb over the beauty mark beneath his eye. 

They couldn’t  _ breathe _ . 

It was all they could do to keep their jaw clenched tight as they hurried through the halls to one of the more unused bathrooms. The coughing started as soon as they burst through the door, and they wound up hunched over, spitting into the sink. When Asahi stopped shaking, they turned on the faucet to watch the colors swirl together and disappear down the drain. 

* * *

“The original story, I mean, the one told to me by my grandmother, was Akahana’s Curse.” Asahi kicked at the gravel under their feet, gently rocking their swing. 

The three of them had walked to the park after classes were over, and they now sat side-by-side on the rusty old swing set that flanked the playground. Asahi and Daichi looked awkward, the seat of the swings slightly too small for them now that they were grown, chains digging into their hips, but they didn’t mind. Sugawara fit just fine, and Asahi really only came here because Suga loved it. Judging by the look on Daichi’s face when Asahi caught him glancing over, he felt the same. 

Daichi skidded his feet across the ground bringing his swing to an abrupt stop, “Wait, I thought it was called the Hanahaki Curse?” 

“It is, now, but it all started with Akahana. She was an herbalist and a healer who lived a long, long time ago outside what we now know as Sendai.”

“A witch,” Suga whispered, clutching at the chains of his swing on the other side of Asahi, already swept up in the story and looking at them with eyes full of wonder. 

Asahi couldn’t hide their smile at Suga’s enthusiasm, “A witch,” they nodded. “Legend has it, Akahana fell in love.” 

Suga gasped and let out a dreamy  _ “aww.”  _

“But,” Asahi paused for dramatic effect—or to swallow down the taste of green creeping up their esophagus—their friends didn’t need to know, “her love was unrequited.”

This time Suga let out a disappointed sound. “Is this going to be a sad story?” 

“It ends in someone vomiting flowers so...probably,” said Daichi as he gripped his swing and pressed his heels into the gravel.

Asahi paused, taking a few steadying breaths until the prickling at the back of their eyes forced them up off the swing. They picked up their bag from where they had discarded it in the grass and walked off, chin tucked down and hands stuffed into their jacket pockets. They didn’t know where they were going, they just had to move—to shake off that overwhelming feeling of  _ I can’t do this _ that washed over them. It only took a few paces before they realized Sugawara and Sawamura had followed without question. 

They walked on for a while, duffle bag thumping against the back of their thigh, which should have been annoying but instead was oddly grounding. The  _ whump, whump, whump, whump  _ of the bag against their leg easing the pressure in their chest and calming their racing thoughts. 

Asahi stepped off the path and into the grass, planting themself on a short slope that overlooked one of the prettier areas of the park. The sakura trees had just begun to open their blossoms, and soon the paths would be packed with visitors there to see the blooms. For now, it was quiet. Daichi sat down on one side and Suga on the other, resting his head against Asahi’s shoulder. 

“Sorry,” they mumbled. 

Daichi bumped their shoulders together, and Suga poked them in the ribs. “I don’t know why this is hard for you, but I do know that despite that face, you’re a gentle soul. You don’t ever have to apologize for that.” 

Asahi turned to look at him with one eyebrow cocked, “Despite...my face?” 

All three of them sputtered with laughter, falling back into the grass and clutching at their sides. Asahi’s heart felt just a bit lighter with the quiet reassurance that their friends loved them, even if it wasn’t in the way that they wished. 

As the giggles subsided, Sugawara asked, “So...what happened to Akahana?”

Asahi sighed, watching the clouds drift overhead as they recalled the rest of the story their grandmother had told them. “She tried everything she could think of, but in the end she couldn’t make her beloved return her feelings. She spent the rest of her days drowning in her sorrow.” Asahi paused, taking a deep breath before they could continue. “After she died, her ashes were scattered under the light of the full moon in the grove where she had foraged for the healing herbs that she used in her work. According to legend, by the light of the next full moon tangles of wild roses had sprung up all over the grove. Her spirit was said to have lived on in the vines, the depth of her heartache leaving behind a curse that caused anyone touched by her magic to be destined to suffer the same fate as she.”

Suga sighed, stretching out in the grass, “That’s terrible. Poor Akahana.”

“So, wait. If that’s all true, and the curse has to do with unrequited love. Then...that would mean that whoever left those petals outside the club room is in love with one of us, right?” Daichi sat up and looked at Suga, brow furrowed in worry as he fit the pieces together. “Does that mean they’ll die if we don’t do something?”

“Oh...” Suga looked stunned at the realization, lifting his head from the grass. “Oh, gods. You’re right. If that’s true, how do you break the curse?” he asked, looking to Asahi with something like desperation painted across his face. 

Asahi’s heart swelled at the concern on both their faces. Of course they would want to make it right, but it just wasn’t possible. They shook their head, turning their eyes back to the sky, “There’s nothing you can do. As far as I know, no one has ever broken the curse.”

“What? No, there has to be a way,” Suga argued. “In all these old legends and fairytales there’s always a way to break the curse! We’d have to at least try.”

“And what would you do? If you found out who it was, what would you do? You guys are already...” Asahi couldn’t say the words—just the thought flooded their nose with pungent floral scent, so they held their hand out and waved it between the two of them miming “together.” 

Sawamura and Sugawara’s eyes met for a moment, passing each other a message Asahi couldn’t decipher while all their focus was on keeping their composure. Daichi spoke first. “Oh...we...umm...we didn’t know you knew.” He cleared his throat awkwardly, “Sorry, we were going to tell you...it’s just—”

Asahi interrupted with another wave of their hand, “Don’t worry about it. I’m just...happy you’re happy.” And they were. They truly were. They just wished that they hadn’t ruined everything with their stupid crush(es) that had blown up into something so much  _ more _ ...they wished it didn’t have to end like this. 

“We’d have to break up,” Suga said suddenly. His voice wavered at the end, but his eyes flashed with a fierce determination that Asahi rarely saw outside the lines of the volleyball court. “We’ll find out who it is, and if it’s one of us who can save them then...we’ll have to break up.”

Daichi met his eye, and with lips pressed into a thin line he gave a watery nod. 

“What?!” Asahi sat up and slid backward on the grass so they could look at them both. “No, you can’t do that! That’s...that’s not how it works. You already love each other, and you’re so happy together. You can’t just....change the way you feel.” Asahi knew that better than anyone. 

What Asahi couldn’t tell them was that the petals weren’t just for one of them. They were for both of them. It would never work without both of them, and it didn’t matter anyway, because they didn’t love Asahi like that. Only true love could break the curse, and it wouldn’t be fair to ask them to try. 

They didn’t need Asahi the way Asahi needed them.

“We have to at least try to help!” Suga said, looking between Daichi and Asahi. “I can’t let someone suffer knowing that one of us might be responsible, and might be able to do something about it.”

“No, don’t you understand? You won’t be able to save them if you don’t actually love them,” Asahi said, running their hands through their hair that had fallen out of the tie to hang loose around their shoulders. 

“We wouldn’t  _ have _ to break up, you know. Not...necessarily...” 

Asahi and Sugawara both looked up at Daichi with raised eyebrows, neither of them quite sure what he was getting at. He looked away awkwardly, the tips of his ears flaring with color as he ran a hand over the back of his neck mumbling, “A person can be capable of loving more than one person....is all I’m saying. Besides, we won’t know for sure unless we find them.” 

“And what if you can’t help them?” Asahi dug their fingers into the earth, keeping petals from blooming over their tongue only by sheer force of will. Not sure anymore if the fresh cut grass smell was coming from the lawn or seeping out of their pores. “If you find them only to watch them die, because you weren’t able to help them...because you weren’t able to...to love them. What then?” 

Daichi and Suga were both quiet after that. Daichi laid back against the slope of the hill to watch the clouds float by overhead, and Suga plucked a violet out of the grass, twisting the stem as he turned Asahi’s question over in his mind. 

When he finally spoke he said the words without wavering. 

“We still have to try.”

* * *

Over the next days, Asahi scoured through the greenhouse records. Ancient dusty tomes packed with information about every single plant that had ever passed through the grounds. They poured through pages and pages of scientific data, and plant care. Tips for both practical and spiritual use. Stories about the plants’ connections to mythology, witchcraft, and lore. Searching and searching through the archives until they finally found Akahana’s rose. 

The entry contained a ledger that gave a brief historical account of those who were said to have been afflicted with the curse—a detailed list of symptoms along with the date they first appeared, and a timeline of the illness from beginning to end. 

Some people moved through the stages very slowly, going several weeks or even months between transitioning to the next phase. Others succumbed in a matter of days. 

Asahi’s case seemed to be different than those listed in the record. For one thing, there were no other recorded cases of double hanahaki. It also seemed like Asahi’s curse was progressing at an alarming rate. Compared to those in the ledger, only the people who had confessed and been rejected had progressed this quickly through the stages—from tickle, to cough, to petal, to flower. Once you reached that stage it wasn’t long before you either suffocated on the blooms or the roots pierced your heart. 

The very first petals Asahi had coughed up had already been streaked with blood. It had only gotten worse from there. Even now, they could feel the hard buds growing in their chest—filling their lungs and leaving them struggling for air whether Suga or Daichi were nearby or not. 

Maybe it was because they had fallen for both of them—two flowers taking root in their chest, twice the devastating effect of one. Or maybe it was because they knew without a doubt that, whether or not they confessed, there could only be one answer to the question in their heart. 

Sugawara and Sawamura were together. There was no room for Asahi. 

And that was fine.

It got harder and harder for Asahi to keep their secret as the days wore on. They had no idea how long it had been since the day those first petals had appeared—when they found Daichi and Suga together. Each day blended into the next as they fought back the pit of emotions that constantly threatened to claw their way out—both literally and metaphorically.

It was exhausting. They didn’t know what they expected to find sorting through the archives, but the records confirmed that there was no way of knowing exactly how long they had, and there was no way out. 

Their fate had been sealed long ago. 

Asahi tried to stay busy, tried not to linger on the tickling sensation behind their collar bones and the heat in their chest when their thoughts drifted to Suga or Daichi in their quiet moments, but it was impossible—inevitable. Those two had worked their way into their life the same way the roots of that magical rose had wrapped around their heart, until they couldn’t separate one from the other. 

The one thing they knew for certain was that they couldn’t let their friends find out anything more about who had left those blood stained petals that day. They couldn’t let them know their true feelings. It was selfish and risky, but they wanted nothing more than to spend their last days in the company of their two best friends—the loves of their life—in the only way that they would ever have them. For as long as they could have them. 

As soon as they found out, everything would change, but Asahi would rather drown in those godforsaken petals than let Sugawara or Sawamura live the rest of their lives knowing that in the end there was nothing they could do to help. They deserved to be happy, and Asahi wouldn’t be the one to take that away from them. 

In a few short days they would all graduate. Then Daichi and Suga would leave, and it would all be over. And they would never have to know why. It was sad—of course they would be sad when Asahi was...gone. But they would move on, eventually. They didn’t need Asahi when they had each other. 

The problem with all that was that they didn’t expect Suga to be as committed to solving the mystery as he was. He looked at everyone with a critical eye—hyper aware of every cough, every abrupt departure from conversation, every hint of floral in the air. 

He even went so far as to pin Tanaka down outside the club room one day and empty his pockets when he caught the scent of flowers—to Suga’s (and everyone else’s) surprise he pulled out a fistful of rose petals from his jacket. Poor Tanaka spent the next few minutes stuttering through an explanation of how the petals got into his pocket, though he wouldn’t say who the flowers were for. The only reason Suga let him go was because the petals were red, and not white and yellow like those first ones. 

But slowly, Suga’s curiosity waned. Perhaps because he found no new leads—Asahi was very careful not to leave behind any evidence. Perhaps because everyone he interrogated had raised an eyebrow at his questions, “You know that’s just a fairytale right?” 

And if Suga or Daichi noticed that Asahi spent more time alone, busy with school work or helping in the greenhouse, cutting their hangouts short, neither said a thing. Asahi didn’t bring it up, and eventually Suga stopped asking about who could have left those scattered petals. 

Though Asahi could still feel his watchful eyes when they stepped out of the room—flowers pressing at the back of their throat.

* * * 

Graduation day was a day of celebration. Asahi could see it on the faces of their classmates—pride, and elation, and just a hint of trepidation at what the future would hold. But all Asahi could feel was a looming sense of foreboding. They knew precisely what the future held for them. 

That morning they had woken with a pit in their throat, seized with a wracking cough that shook their whole body. When the wheezing and hacking finally subsided they held in their hand the heads of two perfectly formed roses. One yellow, one white—the petals stained with blood. The overwhelming taste of iron and floral making their insides churn with dread. They almost stayed home, but a nagging voice at the back of their mind told them they had to go.

_ ‘Be selfish for once,’  _ it said.  _ ‘For once in your life. If only to say goodbye.’ _

Somehow they made it through the ceremony, successfully avoiding both Daichi and Suga. They offered a hoarse “thank you” to the congratulations that were tossed like confetti by every person they shuffled past. Keeping their eyes tipped toward the ground and barely recognizing faces, they skirted around the back of the building, taking a moment to hide away from the smiles, and laughter, and joy that was all somehow even more stifling than the pollen that coated their mouth and tongue—desperation gripping like a vice, and flowers coloring the ground as they quietly begged the universe to reconsider. 

By the time Asahi pulled themself together the crowd had mostly dispersed, splintering away to continue with their own celebrations, but Asahi knew exactly where they’d find Suga and Daichi. Part of their brain worried they couldn’t do it. Part of them knew that there was no way they could see them—let alone speak with them—without giving it all away. Still, with limbs as heavy as lead, they dragged themself toward the park. 

It didn’t take long for Asahi to spot them, standing close together beneath the sakura trees. Maybe they didn’t have to talk to them...maybe this would be enough. But seeing them together made their ribs seize painfully, and their shallow breaths caught on every inhale. This didn’t feel like closure. 

_ ‘No, I have to. This is it,’  _ they thought.  _ ‘This is my last chance to say goodbye.’ _

They took a few steps toward their friends, noticing that as they did the little distance between Suga and Daichi closed as well. They looked perfect together—hands clasped between them, exchanging quiet words as the cherry blossoms drifted down around them like big fat snowflakes, landing lightly on their shoulders and in their hair. 

_ Gods _ , they wanted nothing more than to be right there in the middle. Let all three of them be consumed by the veil of cascading petals—unaware of the rest of the world passing them by because all they knew was each other. 

They watched as Daichi nodded his head, reaching to tear the second button from his gakuran as Suga did the same. They touched their foreheads together, whispering something in the quiet space between before their lips met, and suddenly Asahi couldn’t breathe. 

Asahi  _ couldn’t breathe. _

The flowers forced their way up and the cherry blossoms rained down, and _ Asahi couldn’t breathe. _

They shouldn’t be here. They shouldn’t have come. 

Daichi and Suga exchanged buttons, and Asahi was alone, and there was nothing they could do but hack and retch and sob until roses fell from their lips to mix with the blossoms that already littered the ground around them. 

They finally looked up, blinking through the tears clouding their vision to lock eyes with Sugawara. 

No. 

A gut wrenching sob tore from Asahi’s throat. They picked themself up with the little strength they had left and they ran. Without looking back, and with lungs screaming for relief. Arms pumping furiously, and feet pounding over the pavement keeping time with the hammering of their heart as the city rushed by in a blur. 

As fast as they moved, they couldn’t outpace the thoughts that had hounded them since the nightmare all began.

We’re best friends.

They don’t need me.

They’re better off without me.

Nothing is going to change that. 

Asahi ran all the way home, stumbling through the doors of the greenhouse on trembling knees that were barely able to hold them up. They dragged themself, gasping and wheezing, through the winding paths of the garden until they doubled over, dropping to their knees in the moist earth before Akahana’s cursed rose—right there where it had all begun. 

Asahi dug their fingers into the soil, the other hand clutching at the front of their gakuran as their chest heaved, pulling in great heaping lungfuls of air until they could no longer endure the dry scrape of their throat. They coughed again, a deep, hoarse barking sound that tore through them unforgivingly until the roses overfilled their lips and spilled to the floor. 

“Asahi...”

Asahi shook their head, hair falling like a curtain over their face, unable to make their mouth form words, and with no breath in their lungs to force them out even if they could.

“Asahi,” Suga’s voice caught, thick with tears as they inched their way along the path behind them. “Why—why didn’t you tell us?” 

Asahi couldn’t look at them. They could feel spit or blood dripping from the corner of their mouth and tears streaming down their cheeks. They shook their head as they heard their friends drop to their knees in the dirt on either side of them. 

“I couldn’t,” they managed to grind out through clenched teeth. 

“But why? Why would you tell us the story, but not tell us that it was you all this time?” Daichi asked, fear evident in the way his voice cracked around the syllables. 

“Because,” Asahi said before clearing their throat and spitting a crumpled petal into the dirt. “You can’t help me.” 

For a moment the only sounds were the wheezing in Asahi’s chest, and the unsteady breaths from Daichi and Suga beside them. 

“What do you mean? If this is because of one of us, of course we can—“

Asahi cut him off, “I saw you two that day.” They punctuated their sentence with a cough. “I saw you two today...exchanging buttons...and I’m...” The pollen was heavy on their tongue, and the sickly sweet taste of petals made the bile churn in their stomach. “I’m sorry,” they sobbed. “You were never supposed to find out. It—it’s not just one, it’s both of you, but...” they barely registered Suga’s sharp intake of air from beside them. “I...”

“Asahi, look at me,” came Daichi’s strong voice beside them. Asahi couldn’t look. “Asa...please,” Daichi whispered as he brushed the hair away from their face with a touch far gentler than what they thought Daichi should be capable of. Asahi blinked away the moisture from their eyes, looking up to find tears streaking down Daichi’s face. 

“I’m s-sorry,” Asahi stuttered as Daichi used his sleeve to wipe the blood away from their mouth. They felt Suga thread his fingers through their hair, wiping away tear tracks with his thumb. 

“No, Asa. I’m sorry,” Daichi said, hooking a finger under their chin to tip their face upward. “I’m sorry I made you feel like you weren’t important to me.” 

“Me too,” Suga croaked next to him. “You’re the most important thing in the world to both of us.”

They knew their friends loved them, but it was too late. It wasn’t enough, and that made it hurt all the more when Daichi took their face in his big calloused hands and placed a kiss over each of Asahi’s eyes as the lids fluttered closed. “It’s too late,” they sobbed. “You love each other, and there...there’s—”  _ nothing you can do. _ “I...I’m so—“  _ so sorry. _

“Asahi, you don’t understand.” Suga gently peeled Asahi’s hand from the front of their jacket, spreading it flat with his own and pressing two hard metal disks into their palm. “These weren’t for each other. They were for you.” 

Asahi stared down at their palm where two identical buttons lay side-by-side. “Wha...what?”

“We were going to confess to you today. We couldn’t find you after the ceremony, but...that’s what we had decided when you saw us in the park,” said Daichi. 

“But...we just graduated. You’re both leaving,” Asahi said clenching their fist around the buttons and looking anxiously between the two of them. 

Suga nodded, biting his lip between his teeth, “We want you to come with us.” 

Asahi still felt like they couldn’t breathe, but now they weren’t sure the petals were the cause. They stuttered out, confusion and disbelief coloring their already hoarse voice, “But you...you never said...” 

“You’re our glass hearted ace,” Daichi shrugged with a watery smile. “We’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you, but we...didn’t want to overwhelm you?” It sounded more like a question than a statement. 

“Then all this happened,” Suga said, nodding toward the flowers, “and we thought it would complicate things if we told you before we figured that out. We should have known it was you, considering you’re the only one who took us seriously with the whole hanahaki thing...”

“Overwhelm...” Asahi shook their head as the pieces snapped together in their mind. “You know, you don’t have to protect me.” Asahi tried to sound scolding, but they knew they still sounded too breathless for anything remotely close to that. Suga and Daichi looked at them, each quirking an eyebrow. 

Suga scooted closer on his knees, shouting all in one breath, “Hey best friend! We’re in love and dating now. Also, we love you. Will you go out with us?!” In the stunned silence that followed he added, “Oh, and move in with us.” 

Asahi stared at him, mouth gaping, and eyes blinking dumbly as their brain struggled to process the words that had tumbled out of Sugawara’s mouth while he blinked back with an expectant grin. 

“See! Overwhelmed.” Suga said, holding out their hand to gesture toward Asahi’s face as proof. 

“Suga,” Daichi scolded. 

“What about the curse?” Asahi said suddenly, remembering what had gotten them there, but in the time it took the words to leave their lips and reach their ears they realized that there was a lightness in their chest that they hadn’t felt in weeks. 

“You said yourself the curse could be broken.”

“Yeah but it has to be...”

“What?” Daichi challenged. “It has to be real? It has to be true love?” He touched their chin, tracing Asahi’s jawline with calloused fingers that he dragged back to rest at the nape of their neck. “Asahi,” he whispered as their foreheads touched and the tips of their noses brushed together. “I love you.” 

When their lips met, that lightness behind their breastbone swelled filling them with prickling energy that radiated out to the tips of their fingers. And when Sugawara slipped a hand between them, tilting Asahi’s face up to his own—“and I love you,” falling over their lips before Suga closed the slip of distance between them—that feeling burst leaving behind an overwhelming sensation of emptiness. 

No, not emptiness, they realized—freedom. The flowers were gone. Sugawara and Sawamura  _ loved _ them, and that love had been strong enough to free Asahi from the bonds of the curse that had anchored their heart for as long as they could remember. 

“I love you, too.” 

“Yeah, we know,” said Suga with a flick to their forehead. Asahi laughed then, a short huff filled with awe and disbelief as they rubbed at their eyes with the back of their hand, wiping away tears of joy that collected in the corners. 

“So...” they asked, staring at the palm still cradling their buttons, “which one of you gets my second button?”

“Oh, you can give it to Daichi,” Suga said easily as he snuggled up to Asahi and threw an arm over their shoulder. “I want your fourth button.”

“The fourth? Why?”

“Because I’m collecting dick buttons,” he said with as serious a face as he could manage, holding out his free hand in front of Asahi and Daichi, and wiggling his fingers. “Hand ‘em over.”

“Oh my god, Suga,” Daichi groaned, hiding his face in Asahi’s shoulder.

The greenhouse is muggy and warm. The smell of freshly turned earth and sunlight wrapped Asahi like a mossy green blanket. And huddled there amongst the clay pots and damp soil, with Suga draped across their shoulders and Daichi’s arm slung around their middle, it truly was their favorite place in the whole world.

**Author's Note:**

> **Behind the scenes:**
> 
> In my hc for this story Suga is a trans dude. Didn’t come up in the story, because he’s just living his life, but it felt too important to leave out entirely. <3
> 
> White roses = silent devotion  
>  Yellow roses = jealousy  
>  Cherry blossoms = life/death, renewal, & future happiness  
>  Violet = honesty
> 
> Akahana (the witch’s name) means red rose or beautiful flower
> 
> And the forget-me-nots that Suga braided into Asahi’s hair stand for true love
> 
> * * *  
>  Drop me a comment! I’d love to know what you thought!  
>  [Tumblr @beauxxxtifullies](https://beauxxxtifullies.tumblr.com/)  
>  ♡ ♡ ♡


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